


i'm covered by nature

by Colordrained



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blushing Dean, Botany, Confident Cas, Crushes, Cute Dean, Flirting, Fluff, Flustered Dean, Gardener Castiel, Honesty, Human Castiel, Intimacy, Kissing, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pining, Plants, Sam Ships It, Shy Dean, Strangers to Lovers, Talking, Texting, alrighty, although really he's more of a botanist I guess, botanist Castiel, ifs just cute, ok, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2664002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colordrained/pseuds/Colordrained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>The plants are beautiful, and Dean lets himself know it. He smiles and brushes his fingers over the pink blooms of some peonies. Immersed in the way that each petal of the flower is a different shade of pink, Dean doesn't notice the man.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. and i'm safe now

**Author's Note:**

> so I'm estimating three/four chapters for this, but yeah. It's a pretty pointless fic that is centered around the idea of Castiel loving plants and dean having a pathetically cute crush. 
> 
> Set in an AU where Dean and sam and cas look like they do in s8 and cas is a human. Dean and Sam are still hunters but don't know about angels and stuff. dean and Sam live in the bunker.
> 
> Title is from Little Bird by Ed Sheeran.

Sam wants plants. Herbs, more specifically. He's been nagging at Dean about it for at least a week, and Dean can only handle so much of Sam's sad brown eyes before he caves. He wants them for cooking, apparently, which Dean finds _hilarious_ because who the fuck puts herbs in their salads?

Yet still, Dean finds himself driving with his eyebrows furrowed in a continuous state of grumpiness towards the 'local' nursery. It's 25 miles away. Sam looks happy though; he's tapping out the beat of the classic rock on his too-long legs and glancing out the window. He looks at home in that passenger seat, and that makes it slightly more worth it to Dean.

By the time they get there, Dean's eyebrows are almost entirely un-furrowed, and he's almost sporting a grin. Sam practically skips into the damn place he's so excited. It's a small, pale pink store attached to a large-ish greenhouse, probably the size of a high school gym. It is pretty, Dean has to admit, with all the greenery and the tiny flowers.

He saunters into the place where Sam is already speaking to some pretty blonde about a small plant he holds in his hands. She offers him a sweet smile and he thanks her, turning around to face Dean.

"Oh. Hey. So basically, this is the rosemary, and I'm gonna go grab a couple terra cotta pots, and then we'll be ready," Sam says.

"I thought there was two herbs you wanted," Dean says with a confused frown.

"About that. The oregano comes from a farmer who makes his stops here on Thursdays, so it'll be here tomorrow," Sam smiles.

"And...it'll need to be picked up, I'm assuming." 

Sam offers a sorry grin, "It's not like you're gonna let me drive the impala."

"Yeah, fine," Dean sighs, "Anything for my tree-hugging little brother." 

Sam rolls his eyes, but is thankful, because there's no way in hell Dean would do this for anyone else.

Sam checks out and Dean walks outside, looking around the place out of curiosity. There's a couple of guys hauling bags of soil from a truck into their storage shed and another few people walking out of the greenhouse. The latter people have a little dirt on their faces, and they look sweaty but generally content, unlike the guys hauling dirt. Dean figures they must take care of the plants. That doesn't sound like such a bad job to Dean, minus the fact that the three plants he has tried to grow in his life have died almost upon him touching them.

Sam emerges, his face drawn up with a smile. He puts the rosemary and pots down gently in the back. They slide in the car and Dean starts it.

"Worth it?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, totally. I'm telling you, plants make you happier. Like, just seeing them every morning is gonna make us less stressed." 

"Whatever you say, Sammy." 

"Okay but really, thinking more practically, this place has a bunch of really odd species, so we could always use it for spells and shit," Sam adds.

"Valid point," Dean says, "But it's fine, I don't mind the drive if it'll make your rabbit food taste a little better."

"Very funny." 

"You know you love me."

\- - - - - - - 

Thursday, Sam gets the rosemary plant re-potted and set up in the kitchen. It sits in the light of the sole window in the bunker, illuminated like a heavenly object. 

Dean shrugs his green canvas jacket onto his shoulders and gives Sam a, "See you soon, loser," before he shuts the door behind him. 

As soon as the door clicks shut his mind registers that he is alone. He realizes he hasn't been completely by himself in at least a week. It's nice hearing nothing but his own breaths and his own boots on the gravel, but an unavoidable worry also blooms from his shoulders. It's ridiculous that he even spares two seconds to worry about Sam, but it's practically part of him at this point. 

Dean shakes his head at himself and squints up at the sun. He walks a few more feet until his hand meets the exterior of the impala, and he breathes. He looks at the bunker, opens the car door, and slides in. Any surface anxiety fades when the car purrs to life. Dean puts in a cassette and then he's off.

While the drive is nice, getting out and stretching is nicer. Dean kills the engine and slides out into the air, involuntarily grinning at the quaint place. He walks inside the pink building and nods at the woman behind the counter. 

"My brother tried to get a plant the other day but they said to come back today...is that here by chance?" Dean gives her a soft smile. 

She nods, "Sure, yeah. Um, you know what--" she bites her lip and furrows her brow "--I think the farmer just arrived a few minutes ago. If you walk right in the greenhouse," she points "there's a guy with brown hair, he'll help you." She returns the smile. 

Dean thanks her and pivots, walking quietly through the wooden door. It's immediately six or seven degrees hotter, far more humid, and much lighter. The clear panels of the building let every ounce of daylight seep through, making Dean squint a little to see properly. 

The plants are beautiful, and Dean lets himself know it. He smiles and brushes his fingers over the pink blooms of some peonies. Immersed in the way that each petal of the flower is a different shade of pink, Dean doesn't notice the man.

"Um, sir?" The voice is insanely gentle and deep. Dean spins around and stumbles back a little bit, bumping into the steel shelf. 

"Sorry, I uh, I wasn't trying to startle you. Do you need any assistance?" The man asks. He speaks in a tone that makes Dean want to tell the guy everything he ever knew; it's knowing, and careful, and warm. 

The man's hair is the first thing Dean notices. The hazelnut strands stick up everywhere and it's too damn enticing. There's also the eyes and lips and cheeks and stubble that hit Dean simultaneously hard enough to knock him to the ground. Instead of expressing any of this, Dean probably blushes. 

"I, uh...there's, um, there's this...plant? I'm looking for?" Dean rubs the back of his hand and looks at the man.

"We have some of those here, yes," the man grins.

"Sorry, I, uh," Dean breathes, "It's an herb that my brother bought. It's like...oren-ga-no? Maybe? I don't fucking know, to be honest."

The man giggles. Dean almost goddamn collapses. 

"I believe your brother needs _oregano_. Yes, we just got them in," the man says, the grin remaining on his pleasant face.

"Okay, cool. Thank you very much...?" 

It takes the man a second to realize that Dean is inquiring about his name. 

"Oh, um, I'm Castiel. And no problem, it's my job." 

Dean nods, "Right. Well, thanks anyways, Castiel." He offers his go-to smile to calm himself down and play off his total inability to control his emotions.

Castiel nods back and turns, motioning for Dean to follow him. Dean certainly notices the places that the muddy khakis cling to Castiel's legs. 

Castiel leads him to a wheelbarrow full of small potted herbs. Castiel rummages through the selection for no more than two seconds before he pulls out a dark-green-leafed herb. 

"Here you are, sir," Castiel says.

"Thanks, Castiel," Dean says. He totally does the elementary intentionally-touching-hands-when-passing-object thing and it's electrifying. 

"Are you warm? You look a little red," Castiel notes with a cocked eyebrow. 

"Uh, not too much, I don't know. I'm fine. Thank you, again," Dean responds, hand coming up to rub his jaw.

Cas nods and grins again, "Alright. Well, call if you need instruction for the plant care."

"Will do," Dean says with a nod and a grin. Cas slowly turns around and resumes his work, sorting the small plants. Dean watches him a short moment before leaving. 

He puts the oregano in the back of the car and sets off, completely content with his little adventure.

When Dean gets home, he gives the little pot to Sam and watches Sam smile at it. Sam sets it by the other one in the window sill and admires his miniature garden. 

"How'd it go? Any issues?" Sam asks.

Dean shakes his head, "Nope. Pretty nice little drive. The workers were nice. Smooth sailing." 

"Good, cool," Sam nods, "And thanks again. I know it was a bit extreme—"

"Sammy, I'm pretty sure I owe you my life a few times over, it's no big deal." Dean claps him on the shoulder and then settles into the living room with a beer in hand. 

"So. What d'you wanna do today?" Sam says, sitting next to him on the couch, "We finished that vamp case like four days ago, you up for another yet?"

Dean sighs, "Uh, I mean. We could. We could just organize and clean and shit too, if you want. We haven't even touched the storage rooms in the east hall."

Sam nods and takes a draw from his beer, "Yeah. Yeah maybe that. A week long break probably wouldn't kill us."

"Sure wouldn't. Hell, we could even have a movie marathon. Or, like, re-paint a room or something."

Sam snorts, "Yeah, Dean, sounds nice. Just put something on besides this soap opera, please."

Dean realizes that he's had it on some 90's rom-com for the past five minutes. He nods, but then hesitates. The retro bedroom of a teenage girl is on screen, and something catches Dean's eye. There's a window sill full of small cacti and flowers; each little pot takes up no more than four inches, giving a nice little array of greenery. Dean smiles.

"Dude, come on, what the hell is this show anyways?" 

"Just hang on," a Dean grumbles. Plants. A whole fucking garden for his room. Not only would that be _lovely_ to wake up to, but it just might excuse three or four more mini road trips to a certain nursery to see a certain hazelnut-haired being. 

And no, Dean Winchester does not have a crush. He just likes the little pink building. That's why as soon as he left this morning he wanted to be back inside that greenhouse. It was charming, and it made him feel soft and calm. That's it.

"Alright," Sam reaches over and yanks the remote away from him, "Now that we've had our little daydream, can we watch some actual television?"

Dean just nods and grins, thoroughly satisfied with himself.


	2. underneath this oak tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha I'm so bad at updating.
> 
> listen 2 me,, Dean Winchester is absolutely pathetic when it comes to crushes and you know it
> 
> these chapter titles are all continuations of the title lyric from Little Bird by Ed. cool. I hope you enjoy this ridiculous fluff.

Four days later when Sam goes to the grocery store in his ridiculous worn red mustang, Dean takes the impala for another mini-roadtrip. He rolls down the windows and breathes in every ounce of the august air, his music a little softer than normal.

Upon arriving at the pink building with its foggy greenhouse, Dean lets himself know his emotion. He flips down the mirror to make sure he looks ok—even puts on some chapstick—and realizes that there's no stopping this now. He's got a crush. A legitimate, pathetic, hopelessly giddy crush. He physically cringes at the thought, but then laughs at himself. He loves it; he loves how his stomach is fluttering just looking at the building, how young and ridiculous he feels. It's better than feeling weighed down by loneliness, so he'll take it.

He looks up at the cloudless sky while walking to the door, only looking away when he hears a voice:

"Can't stay away, huh?" it says. He pins the voice to Castiel, who is walking towards Dean from the end of the greenhouse with two plants in hand.

Dean smiles. He starts toward Castiel, "Nope. I would say it's the plants, but it's really just this helpful worker guy I met once."

Castiel chuckles, "Well, since I'm just so helpful, what can I do for you today, sir?"

"Sir?" Dean raises an eyebrow, "I'm not forty yet, you know."

Castiel smiles and looks down,"Excuse me for that, I just...I don't actually know your name."

"Oh," Dean feels like a bit of an idiot, "my bad. I, uh, don't know why I left that out. I'm Dean," and then after a second, "Winchester."

Castiel nods, "Nice to meet you Dean Winchester. Now, what can I help with?" 

"First off, I need some lavender and some hemp. Do you...have that?" Dean says, squinting through the run rays to see Castiel's face.

"I'm pretty sure. Anything else?" 

"Um...I'll see when I get inside. I wanna get some tiny plants, but I don't really know what I'm doing."

"Here, come here," Castiel says, gesturing and turning away from Dean. They walk to the end of the greenhouse and through the double doors. Dean inhales and decides that the earthy, floral smell is pretty damn nice. 

After setting the two large pots down, Castiel walks over to a metal shelf with different flowery stalks and picks out the lavender. He then goes to the leafy section and grabs a small hemp plant. Dean watches how calm his demeanor is, how effortless it is for him to find the species. 

Castiel grabs a little woven basket near the shelves and places the two pots in it. He turns to Dean, "You said you might need something else?" 

Dean just watches him for a moment. He bites his tongue, wanting so badly to say something like, ' _Jesus Christ, everything in this place is so charming and beautiful including you_ '.

Instead he says, "Uh, yeah. I was gonna get a couple of like, small, decorative plants. But I don't know anything about this."

Castiel nods, "Okay, where do you plan on putting them?" 

"In my room, like maybe on a shelf or something." 

Castiel smiles, "That's cute. I would say maybe some succulents, which are small and colorful..."

The gardener keeps talking and describing the plants, but all Dean can hear is ' _That's cute_ ,' over and over. 

Castiel stops speaking, and Dean just nods and grins like he knows what's going on. 

"So succulents and ferns, is that okay?" Castiel asks. 

"Yeah, uh. Those'll be great. I trust your judgement more than mine, so," Dean replies, hoping the wave in his voice doesn't give him away. 

Castiel bites his lip and nods and starts towards the section of tiny plants. 

Ten minutes later Dean leaves with five plants (the herbs, two succulents, and a tiny fern), a ridiculous smile on his face, and Castiel's phone number in his pocket. It was there in case Dean needed plant care expertise, but hey, he can pretend like it means something more.

Dean puts the number in under the name 'Cas' because that seems cute, and uses the small amount of self control he has not to immediately send a text. After breathing for a second, Dean starts the car and puts it in gear. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Castiel taking a box of daisies into the greenhouse. 

Castiel pauses, looking at Dean. Dean offers a small wave, because why the hell not. Castiel nods at him, grinning. After a moment Castiel finally turns and goes inside.

Dean's chest swells and his throat feels all bubbly. He's pretty sure this is what it's like to be sixteen and in love. He doesn't care if it's pathetic; the lightness flooding through him is the nicest thing he's felt in a while. 

When Dean gets home he puts the plants on a wooden shelf in his room. He places the lavender and hemp in the kitchen, next to the other two herbs. 

Sam comes in an hour later and notes the plants, nodding in approval.

"For hex bags, you know," Dean explains. 

"So the place is actually useful for hunting and stuff?" Sam asks.

"Yeah. Dunno why it took us so long to find a place like that, but it should help."

Sam nods and goes off into the bunker, probably to sort through more of the ancient documents. Dean decides that it's opportune to go take some time for himself. He sketches sometimes, just things, and the cute new plants should make for fun subjects. 

As he draws them he finds himself wanting more: four or five or ten more little plants. He opts to wait a little while though, until he is sure in his ability to care for these two. 

\- - - - - - - -

In nine days Dean can't wait anymore, and he makes the lengthy drive. The two plants are still fine, so what the hell; he can get another few. 

Cas doesn't seem to be around upon Dean's arrival, which is disappointing. Dean walks slowly to the front door and steps in, noticing the charming _ring_ of the doorbell for the first time. 

"Hello!" the woman at the desk says, the same pretty one that was there the first time. 

"Hey, uh, is Castiel in? He's been helping me choose plants and stuff," Dean responds.

"Oh, are you Dean? Cas was talking about you, I think. Unfortunately he's not here until two o'clock, do you want assistance from Tate? She's pretty helpful too."

Trying to keep his cool and ignore ' _Cas was talking about you_ ', Dean glances at his watch to find it's 1:36. He shuffles his feet around for a second, "Well, um...if you don't mind at all, can I just walk around for a while? If that's okay, I mean," he offers a polite smile.

The woman smiles back with an odd expression—like she has a secret—and nods. 

"Of course, sir. Just don't move stuff around too much, if you could please."

Dean nods back, "Thank you. Uh—"

"I'll tell Cas you're here when he clocks in," she says, and Dean decides that this girl is pretty great.

He thanks her again and walks eagerly into the greenhouse. The humidity makes his Henley and jeans stick to his skin uncomfortably, but the scenery is distracting enough to drown that out. 

He thinks about Cas talking about him, about the fact that Dean stayed in the Cas' mind long enough to mention him to a co-worker. Dean wonders what he said, what he sounded like, and how much he talked. He then realizes that this sort of obsession is a little dumb, and instead focuses on his surroundings.

Dean distracts himself by going up and down the rows and choosing potential room-flowers; he observes the color, name, temperature requirements, nativity, and size of each. He carries six small plants in his arms for what feels like forever until finally a silvery, warm voice cuts through the soft air,

"Back already?" 

Dean spins around and Cas is grinning, walking casually towards him. 

Dean smiles back and tries to readjust one of the plants in his arms, shuffling them around and making a couple nearly fall from his grasp. Cas walks quicker, stabilizing the pots.

"Here," he offers, taking two of them into his own hands. Cas' fingers graze the part of Dean's forearm which is left uncovered by the flannel. 

"Thank you. Um, I just sort of picked these out...um. I don't know what I'm doing." Dean looks at him like a helpless child. It's a only soft chuckle, but Cas _laughs_. He laughs and his nose scrunches up and Dean can feel all the air rush out of his chest. Dean bites his lower lip hard, trying to contain the care that rises inside him.

"Here," Cas says again, collecting himself, "Okay, let me get a basket." In a moment, Cas is back with a woven basket and they set all of the plants into it. 

"Let's just...um..." Cas looks around, then at the ground. He promptly sits on the concrete floor, crosses his legs like an elementary school student, and grabs one of the plants. "Sit," Cas pats the ground near him.

Dean grins and follows suit, sitting next to Cas on the cool stone. Castiel holds the plant between them and starts explaining.

"This," he says in a soothing, familiar voice,"is English ivy." 

Dean recognizes this voice to be the one he acquires when he talks about the greenery. Cas sounds content, sure, and easy. Dean takes in every word this time. 

"I really like this one. It's pretty, and it's easily cared for; just keep the soil fairly moist and the room temperature between 50 and 70 degrees. It doesn't really go with your other plants if you're trying for matched decorating, but if you want an assortment I think it would be just fine."

Cas gently touches the leaves of the plant, grazing his nail over the vine and weaving it between his fingers. Dean reaches out to do the same, to feel the soil. Cas moves at the same time to touch another leaf and their hands bump a little. Neither of them draws away, and they sit connected by the small ivy. Castiel continues,

"My mother grew English ivy when I was little. It's scentless and fairly plain, but I think it's elegant and just very...it's just a nice plant. I don't know. Sometimes after looking at all the exotic, ornate ones the simplicity is just better. I don't know." 

Dean smiles softly and nods, "It makes sense. Yeah...I like it. How about the others?" 

As he picks up the next little pot, Cas' voice sinks back into the easiness. He speaks for while, methodically and quietly. They touch the plant and their fingers brush. This interaction occurs three more times, and an hour later Dean's back hurts like hell but all he can think of is bringing their mouths together as sweetly as he can.

Dean lets his knee touch Castiel's and they stay like that for the next ten minutes until finally all of the plants have been discussed. It feels stupid and immature, but also wonderful. 

When they're done, Dean stands up first as to not make things uncomfortable with stillness. He ends up buying all of the plants but one.

Cas walks him to the car and looks at him with one eye squinted, "Uh, remember, you can text me if you need to. Or I guess if you're just bored sometime, too. You've listened to me rant about leaves and flowers long enough; I owe you." 

Dean laughs a little and shakes his head, "It's no problem, I kinda like it. I should know more about this stuff, so. Yeah. But anyways, I'll remember that."

Cas nods, "Oh, Every week day but Wednesday, from two to eight, by the way."

"Huh?" Dean says.

"My schedule. Every week day but Wednesday, two o'clock to eight o'clock. Come by whenever you feel like it," Castiel says, eyes warm and clear. 

Dean smiles, "Yeah alright. Cool," he roughs his hand through the back of his hair, "Well, um, I'll see you later, then."

"Yeah, see you soon." 

Dean pats the hood of the impala and then ducks inside, waving before he pulls away. He laughs to himself when he makes it onto the road because dear god, he is in love. He is in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are even more lovely than flowers. please do leave them if you feel inclined <333
> 
> oh also I'm taking a couple grammar classes so if you notice a shift in punctuation/apostrophes it's because I'm actually doing it correctly now haha


	3. with you beside me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the most research i have ever done for a work. like seriously i now know an unreasonable amount about popular herbs and voodoo. 
> 
> anyways, this is so so so nice to write i'm glad some people are enjoying this.
> 
> once again, the chapter and main titles are from Ed Sheeran's "Little Bird". 
> 
> enjoy :)

Sam notices the abundance of plants. 

"Did I, like, inspire you to become one with nature or something? You don't need eight plants, man." Sam says, smirking and taking a sip of beer. 

"No, dude," Dean rubs his chin and grins, "They're nice, okay? They make me happier, and the place is nice—"

"Chill," Sam puts his hands up, "It's fine. If it makes you happy, then, good."

Dean nods. Putting their plates in the dishwasher, he tries to work out how he's gonna break this whole Cas thing to Sammy. 

"Hey," Dean says, closing his eyes in frustration, not quite sure what he plans on saying, "Um." 

Sam turns towards him and raises his eyebrows, "Hm?"

"You...should come with me next time, we can get some useful stuff. I'm pretty sure they had sage there. M'sure they'll have a bunch of stuff."

Looking suspicious, Sam nods, "Sure, yeah, just...maybe in a few days? I don't know man, is it really that important? I mean, I can probably find us a case, if you want to."

Dean shrugs and his voice becomes sharp, "I don't care, does it matter? I guess it's not that important, no, I just suggested—"

"Am I missing something? Why are you so on edge?"

"Sam, Jesus Christ, I'm not until you ask me a bunch of questions! Let's just go Friday, okay? End of."

Sam looks down, smiling and shaking his head, "Alright. Alright, man. If you wanna let me know what's wrong, I'll be in the library."

Dean mumbles something incoherent. He breathes and leans against the counter top. _Fuck_ , he thinks, _Real freakin' smooth, Dean._

He sends Sam a text that says "sorry" and grabs a beer. Dean puts on some movie he doesn't watch and thinks of things to calm down. He thinks of hunts with Sam and the comforting embraces that follow. He thinks of his mother gardening, of warm Kansas sunsets. He thinks of blue, blue, blue eyes that light up in conversations. He thinks of fingers running over leaves and buds and dirt. He breathes.

Sam is kind, Cas is beautiful, and things will be fine. 

\- - - - - - - - 

On Friday, two days later, Dean gets a text at 1:56 in the afternoon. It's from Cas.

_Hello dean. How are you?_

Dean feels his throat constrict a bit, and he bites down on his bottom lip. He responds.

_hey castiel! what's up?_

Much quicker than expected, Dean gets a response.

_I'm about to clock in. I figured I'd ask how your plants are doing._

Dean smiles.

_sounds fun. yeah, theyre pretty good i guess. theyre not dead haha_

He hesitates hitting the send button, re-reading it a few times and considering alternate wording. He eventually sends it, and then forces himself to put his phone on the counter and walk away for a minute.

This is dumb. Dean's acting like some dumb sixteen year old, and his heart patters when he gets a text notification, and he just needs to go drink some water and not think about this man for ten seconds.

Gripping the countertop and shaking his head, he yells for Sam. Dean ignores the phone when it vibrates and drinks more water. 

"Yeah? What's up?" Sam rounds the corner into the kitchen, eyebrows arched. 

"You wanna go to the plant place? I didn't know what you were doing, but I need some air—and not a hunt, at least not today." 

Sam shrugs, "Yeah, sure. Sure, I'll go get ready. Leave in ten?" 

"Sounds good," Dean looks at his phone and nods.

"You okay?" Sam asks, eyeing the phone and his brother.

Dean straightens his back and takes another drink, "Yeah, no, I'm good. Just feeling weird. You?" 

Sam gives a confused look for a brief second, "I'm fine, yeah...I'm gonna go get ready."

Dean nods. When Sam leaves the kitchen, Dean checks the phone and curses himself for acting so strange.

_Good to hear :) You should come by today, Tate tells me we got a new shipment in with some pretty Jade plants. They'd go well with your assortment._

Dean's chest fucking swells and he feels his cheeks redden and he knows this shit won't end until Cas is here with him or gone. 

_i dont know what a jade plant is but me and my brother should be coming by shortly :)_

Figuring that if Cas gets to use smiley faces then he can too, Dean throws it in at the end of the sentence. 

Sam comes back in to put his boots on and nods toward the phone, "Who's that?" 

Dean slides the phone in his pocket and glares at him.

"No one, Dad, why do you care?" 

"Dude," Sam sighs and rubs a hand over his face, "I'm not trying to be like that. You seem out of it. I was just wondering who it is, you don't gotta tell me." 

Dean runs his hand through his hair and looks at his brother, "Do I? Seem weird, I mean."

Sam nods, "For like a week, you seem distracted and on edge. It's fine, like, I know we both go through shit somtimes, but I want to feel like I can help if you need."

"Well," Dean stands back on his heels, "I uh, appreciate that obviously. I'm fine though."

"Alright," Sam shrugs on his coat, "You ready?" 

"Yeah," Dean follows suit and slips on his canvas green jacket. 

Their feet crunch on the gravel path, and when they sink into the seats of the impala Dean gains a little clarity. Sam talks about baseball the way over there, getting overexcited about Derek Jeter and Adam Wainwright, and Dean enjoys every second of the enthusiasm. The drive seems shorter with the conversation, and Dean feels incredibly at ease upon arriving.

"So what exactly are we here for?" Sam asks, shutting the car door. 

"Figure we need some more general herbs. For like conjuring and hex bags and gris-gris bags, yeah? And then maybe just another one for my room."

"You literally have eight plants in your room already, Dean."

Dean shrugs, "Got enough shelf space for a few more, don't I?" 

Sam chuckles, "It's your life, dude."

They walk in and the little bell chimes. The pretty girl is at the front desk, and they finally learn her name—Daja.

"Cas is in," she says to Dean with a pleasant smile, "Just got in those Jade plants, he should be towards the back with Tate. Told me you were coming."

Dean nods, "Cool, thank you." Dean really appreciates Daja.

To no surprise, Sam looks a bit confused, "Who's Cas? Why does he know you'll be here?" 

"Chill," Dean says, "He works here. Just wait a minute and you'll meet the dude."

They walk to the back of the greenhouse and the sound of their boots hitting concrete echoes through the place. Dean spots a hazelnut head amongst the flowering tropical plants and smiles. 

"Can a guy get some assistance around here?" Dean says, in a mock-rude tone. 

Cas spins around and is already grinning at the voice, "Of course, Dean—oh. Hello...Sam, is it?" Cas looks a little surprised, but still collected. 

"I'm—uh, yes. Hi," Sam says, still not quite understanding it all. 

"I'm Castiel, I work here...obviously. Dean has bought a multitude of plants recently."

Dean distracts himself with a white daisy on a nearby shelf, and Cas watches him. Something clicks.

Sam smiles slowly, the grin spreading and spreading, beginning to put things together.

"Right, right. Um. Well, we just stopped in for a few things. I think Dean has a list, he can talk to you and find them...let me just check with him real fast and then I'll let you two figure it out," Sam speaks politely in the same smooth, calm voice he uses on hunts. 

He turns to Dean, biting his tongue and continuously smirking, "I see why you like the plants so much now."

Dean stops fiddling with the flower and glares at him, "What the hell does that mean?"

"You've got a fucking _crush_ , Dean, c'mon."

"No I do not, you asshole," Dean huffs out a breath, "No. Cas is cool, he knows a lot about flowers, and that's it. He's—it's not that." 

"Uh-huh. No, I'm sure you've been buying an insane amount of plants for many reasons other than the cute botanist guy whose eyes get bigger when he sees you."

Dean opens his mouth and then closes it, jaw clenching and cheeks pink, "You're an idiot. No. It's not my fault that his eyes look like that."

"Like what?"

"Big and sparkly and blue and shit, they're just like that when he's around the plants."

Sam laughs and looks at the ground, "You're pathetic," he puts a hand on Dean's shoulder, "Dean. You just complimented his eyes with absolutely no prompting to do so—"

"I fucking did n—"

" _Dean_ , for God's sake, if you like the guy then fine. Just stop acting like you're twelve and tell me about it next time, okay? Now go talk about flowers and shit with him."

Dean swallows and nods, face still warm, "Go. Just...pick out one you like...or flirt with Daja or Tate or something." 

Sam claps him on the shoulder and walks off, leaving just him and Cas. 

"Sorry," Dean tells him, "My brother's an ass."

Cas shakes his head and strolls towards Dean, "It's quite alright; I have a couple brothers myself," he pauses, "How are you?" 

Dean tries to suppress the swirly feeling in his abdomen, "Pretty good. Being in here is nice. You?" 

"Same here. You come for something specific?" 

"Yeah," Dean smiles, "but I get to see these Jade plants first, right?" 

Cas smiles back, "Yes...yes, um—here, c'mere," 

He leads them back to the wheelbarrows of new plants and Dean notes the casual way Cas speaks to him now; It's different than the way Daja speaks to him, it's relaxed and familiar and lovely. 

"Here" Castiel hands him a terra cotta pot the size of his palm, "This is a Jade plant. Well, it's technically a miniature Jade plant, but..."

Dean takes the pot from his hand and runs a finger over the smooth leaves. 

"It, uh," Cas smooths down the hair on the back of his head and looks at Dean, "The color of it is similar to your eyes. Or, it just...it reminded me of them. The deep green."

Dean finds himself at a loss suddenly, breath pushed from his lungs and mind fuzzy. Cas is standing there all vulnerable, and Dean begins to comprehend the weight of the words. He grapples for something to say, to assure Cas.

"I...yeah, thank you," Dean gets out, a little hoarse. 

Cas nods once and looks at the ground, and the whole thing is very fragile. Now Dean knows, and Cas knows, and it's all right there but neither of them wants to touch it.

"You're blushing," Cas says, smirking.

Dean laughs weakly, "Yeah. Yeah, uh...I am, sorry," he forces himself to look Cas in the eye, "So."

"So," Cas says, surprisingly calm.

"There's, uh, a few more things me and Sammy need, if you...wanna help us out," Dean says softly.

"Of course," Cas hints at a grin.

"And," Dean clears his throat and looks at Cas through his eyelashes, "I will certainly take the Jade. It might be my favorite yet."

Cas bites back a smile and nods, "Good. Good, I'll just go get a basket then."

Dean follows behind him while he retrieves it, and thinks about what the hell he's gonna do about this. 

"Alright," Cas interrupts the thought, "What can I get you?" 

Dean asks for Wild yarrow, mint, Clary sage, and Silver thyme, all of which they miraculously have (although Cas admits he wasn't even aware of the yarrow). They meet Sam at the counter, and Cas pats Dean on the shoulder when he says goodbye. 

Plants paid for, Sam and Dean saunter back out to the Impala. Sam stays quiet until they're in the car, and then he just starts laughing. 

Dean sighs, "Go ahead and say whatever—" 

"This is so funny, oh my God," Sam says, "I have never seen you like this."

"Yeah, well, you're not kidding. Look," Dean puts the car in drive, "I know it's pathetic, okay? But like, I just kinda figured out he might feel the same way, and I'm kinda freaking out over it, and—"

"Why?"

Dean gives him a look, "What do you mean 'Why'? The guy just fucking told me that a plant reminded him of my eyes and like, what the hell do I say to that? I don't deserve that, Sam."

Sam laughs at him for a moment, "Okay, I'm gonna pretend this isn't the most elementary, sappy thing in the world for a second," he turns towards Dean a bit, "He's obviously into you, right? And vice versa, or whatever, and you _do_ deserve that, and I think you should chill the fuck out and just call the guy and you know, ask him to come over or whatever. Like adults do."

"Ask him to come over?" 

"I don't know," Sam runs his hand through his hair, "Ask him to come help you take care of your dying plants or something. He likes plants and you...seems pretty fitting to me." 

Dean chews on his lip, "That's a surprisingly OK idea."

"Good." 

Sam sits back in his seat and is silent for a moment, "For real though, that was the most uncomfortable tension I have ever experienced in—" 

"Shut the hell up, Sam."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~~~~comment to help a pretty flower grow 2day~~~~~~


	4. but if i kissed you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao it's been...so long...but it's done!! enjoy.

Dean calls him at 10:28am the next day. It's Saturday and Cas doesn't have work, and Dean simply cannot restrain from this opportunity. As the dial sounds, his heart pounds, giddy with nerves. 

"Hello?" Cas says in the ever-rough voice he has.

"Castiel," Dean tries to sound light and welcoming, "What's up?" 

"Oh! Dean, hello. Um, I'm just reading. You?" His voice shakes on a couple words.

"I'm not doing much of anything, really," Dean says, "But I, uh, I just called because my plants aren't doing so great—I mean. They're not dead, or anything, but I don't actually know how to take care of plants and you do, and um," he collects himself, "Would you wanna come over for a little and help me out with them? Like, get them healthier or something?" 

He can hear Cas' breath hitch and hell if that isn't the most beautifully scary thing ever.

"Yeah, yes, I'd love to," Cas says.

Dean exhales quickly and smiles, "Yeah? Alright, cool. Um...do you want me to come pick you up? I mean, my place is kinda out in the middle of nowhere, so."

"Sure," the excitement is evident, "Sure, if that'd be easier."

"Good, okay. I just, I don't really know how else to take care of the plant thing, you know," Dean adds.

"Right, right. Yeah, no, it'd be good."

"Yeah," Dean tries to calm down, "Okay, well just text me your address and I'll come get you." 

"Thank you, Dean."

Dean nods, "No problem at all, Cas."

Castiel laughs quietly, "Cas, huh? Thought only Daja called me that." 

"I, uh, is that okay? I just kinda made a habit of it."

"It's quite alright. I'll see you in, what, a half hour?" 

"Um. I live a ways away from the greenhouse, it might be a little later than that, sorry," Dean says.

"No, it's okay," Cas assures him. "See you in a bit."

"Alrighty," Dean holds his breath for a second, "Bye, Cas." 

"Goodbye, Dean." 

When the line goes dead, Dean puts his hands on his head and looks at the ceiling and breaths deep and smiles and smiles and smiles. 

"Sammy!" he calls

Sam comes quickly, eyes wide and knife drawn.

"No, no, it's fine," Dean shakes his head, "Cas is coming over, I'll buy the next two pizza deliveries if you clean the place up a little while I go get him." 

Sam rolls his eyes and stows his knife, "Yeah, fine. Your room too?" 

"Yeah, I'll throw in some beers. Thank you, so much," Dean claps him on the shoulder and goes to get dressed. "You're the best, Sam."

"Uh-huh."

\- - - - - - - - 

The drive to Cas' home—while scenic—feels way too long. Dean's left leg bounces in anticipation and his throat feels too tight. 

Dean turns some music up too loud in hopes of drowning out his thoughts. He focuses heavily on the road. In 52 minutes, he's there.

Cas's apartment is, of course, the one with a balcony full of potted plants. Vines tangle themselves through the railing and and drape off the edge. A light orange cat sits in the corner of the area, gazing at Dean's car through the rails. There's a sea glass wind chime hanging from the roof. It's just as charming as Dean would have imagined.

Dean parks by the apartment number and gets out, strolling towards Cas's door. Looking down at his boots, He knocks twice on the wooden entrance.

Cas opens the door smoothly and smiles at the sight of his friend, "Hello, Dean."

Dean whips his head up, "Hey, Cas. You good?" 

Cas nods and works to shut the door, locking it behind him. He carries a small bag that's smudged with dirt on his shoulder.

"Shall we?" Dean says, extending his arm towards the parking lot.

Cas grins at his idiocy and walks alongside him.

"So, how bad are the plants?" 

"Well," Dean explains, "Like I said, they aren't dead. I've watered them and stuff, but they just look a little... sad. I don't think I'm doing it right."

"Hopefully I can help. I highly doubt you've traumatized them beyond saving in a couple weeks."

"Thanks, Cas, that's too kind," Dean jokes.

Dean opens the car door for him, which seems a little outwardly romantic, but whatever. 

"I didn't really _look_ at your car before, but it's very nice," Cas remarks, putting on his seatbelt as Dean slides in the driver's side.

"Thank you. She's my pride and glory, I guess, so I try to take care of her," Dean starts it, puts it in gear, and turns the radio down.

"It also smells nice," Cas adds.

"Yeah?" Dean glances at him, "That's a little surprising. I'm too used to being in here to tell."

"Like...bonfires. And french vanilla coffee."

Dean laughs, "Huh. I'll take your word for it," (Dean doesn't mention that the bonfire smell is most likely due to salting-and-burning). 

"Sorry for such a long drive, by the way. I should have offered to meet you halfway," Cas says.

"No, no," Dean taps the steering wheel, "I like driving, it's my pleasure. No trouble at all. I owe you for the plant advice, really." 

"Alright," Cas says. It's quiet for a moment.

"You can, um, adjust the radio or whatever. It's kinda shitty but it still works, and I don't know what kind of music you listen to," Dean says.

"Classic rock is good by me. I listen to a lot; not much would annoy me."

They talk about music for a while, then. About favorite albums and cassette tapes and kissing people at concerts and instruments. Cas plays the violin, and for some reason Dean things that suits him perfectly. 

The topic changes to weather, and the general landscape of Kansas. Cas says he prefers the climate of North Carolina—he spent a couple years there—but the company of Kansas.

"You got family here?" Dean asks

"No, they're in Seattle, where I grew up. But I've got some friends here I love. And people are just more pleasant in the Midwest. I don't know, I like it." 

"I think I get it, yeah."

In two more minutes, they arrive. 

"So before you judge the hell out of me," Dean starts, "Try and ignore the building, for now. I know it's weird, but eventually you'll understand." 

Cas eyes the steel gates of the bunker's garage, and smiles as Dean parks near them. 

"Am I about to get serial killed?" 

Dean laughs, "No, no. I know it's odd. But I don't know...it's home. And the inside is surprisingly nice." 

Cas nods. They get out of the car and Cas makes an offhand comment about how nice the gravel sound is beneath his feet. Dean opens the gates with the keypad on the outside, and they shuffle inside. 

Dean is uncomfortable for a minute, walking through the cold, spacious garage. It's not until they get inside that things relax. The door opens to a space near their kitchen, which smells heavily of coffee. Sam must have brewed a pot—something Dean will thank him for later. 

"Mm," Cas hums, "Coffee." 

"You want some?" Dean asks, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the hook. 

"I, um, sure. I would love some." 

Dean takes Cas' bag and hangs it on a hook, guiding him to the main area. 

"Well," Dean gestures, "here it is. The main rooms are kind of connected in this giant area, and then the halls lead to bedrooms and libraries and stuff. It's nice."

"I like it, actually," Cas says,"It's very different, but much more welcoming than expected." 

"Good," Dean replies gently, headed to get Cas' coffee. "You like cream or sugar?" 

"Just a little cream, please," Cas says, taking a seat in a bar stool at the counter. "So, where have you put the plants at? I see those few," He nods towards the four herbs sitting in the windowsill.

"Yeah, um, the rest are on these shelves in my room. I can show you in a minute if you want," Dean's eyes flicker up to Cas'. He hands Cas robin-egg blue colored mug, smiling politely. 

"Tell me if it's okay," Dean says.

Cas takes a sip, hums, and nods, "It's very good, thank you." 

"So," Dean leans over on the counter, "What made you love plants? Like, you talk about plants the way I talk about my car. What made you wanna do, you know, the whole botany thing?" 

Cas grins and looks down at his coffee, "I, uh, haven't really thought about it." He looks at Dean, "I've always thought of myself as a sort of naturalist, I guess. I think nature is just... astoundingly beautiful most of the time, even rain and grey days or whatever. And I think that nature is sort of healing and calming," He runs his finger around the rim of the mug, "When I like something, I like knowing as much about it as possible, too. So, it started out as me just hiking and looking at trees or whatever, and then eventually I had my own little potted plants, and then I made an effort to learn about everything botanical I could." Cas takes a sip of coffee and Dean stays quiet, just looking at him. "I imagine that the feeling I get while working in the greenhouse is very similar to the one you get while driving on a freeway, to put it simply."

Dean smiles, "That sounds nice. I can tell, I mean, with how you look when you're in the greenhouse." he scratches the back of his neck, "I don't know, I like listening to people talk about things they love. That's kinda weird, I guess, but," he shrugs.

Cas takes another drink, "No, I don't think so. I enjoy it too. It lets you see some of the best parts of people." 

Dean nods, "True," he takes a deep breath, "So. you wanna go see these plants that I've been unintentionally cruel to?" 

Cas smirks and slides gently off the bar stool, "I'd love to, thank you." 

"Now," Dean holds up a finger, " Please remember that I tried." 

"Duly noted."

They pad down the hallway and Dean stays quiet as Cas rakes his eyes over everything. Cas looks at the re-enforced doors; the smooth, strong walls; the concrete floors and ceiling. He never thought that something so industrial at root could feel this comforting. 

"Here," Dean slows at a door that looks identical to all the rest and reaches to open it. He flips the light on and steps inside, thankful once again for his brother's tidying abilities. 

Cas follows his lead, and Dean shuts the door behind him. In order to minimize the tension (or whatever it was), Cas heads straight over to the little shelves of plants. He laughs.

A little worry stricken, Dean walks over and defensively says, "What?" 

Cas shakes his head a little and touches the leaves of the English Ivy, "You're certainly not a botanist. It's okay though," Cas faces him, "They're totally save-able." 

Dean touches the back of his neck and quietly says "Okay."

"Relax. You didn't know, it's pretty simple. It'll be fun." 

"Yeah?" Dean responds, "Alright. What do I do?"

"They need sun. And because you can't pile all of these onto your kitchen counter, we'll put them outside. Also I'll make tags so you know how often to water them. Then we can plant a couple of them; the ivy and the fern need a little bit bigger pots."

"I don't have pots," Dean notes.

"S'okay. A we'll find something." 

Dean nods. "We can put them out front by the garage, set them on top of the block wall. They should get lots of sun and there's not too much wind."

"Perfect," Cas smiles, "Let's do it, then."

They carry as many plants as possible in their arms outside to the wall. Cas goes back inside for a second to grab his canvas bag, and comes out with two coffee tins.

"I, uh, wasn't trying to be weird, but these were in your garage and they'd be good to plant in."

"Oh, cool," Dean nods, "Yeah, they were in there for holding tools and stuff, but I never used them."

Cas sets them on the ground and sits down beside them. "You can arrange the other six how you want on the wall, and I'll start planting these. You have any soil?" 

Dean looks around for a second before fixing his eyes on a patch of earth near the end of their "driveway". 

"You got a shovel?" 

Cas rummages through his bag for a second and pulls a small hand shovel out, then hands it to Dean. 

"Gimme a second," Dean grabs one of the coffee tins and saunters over to the dirt. Cas sits quietly and watches him for a while, until Dean returns with a tin full of soil.

"Thank you very much, sir, " Cas takes it from him. 

Dean takes care in setting the six un-potted ones in the prettiest order on the wall while Cas pours some dirt from one tin to the other. After he's done, Dean sits down on the concrete next to Cas. 

"Want me to do one?" Dean asks.

Still focusing on the plant he has, Cas hums, "Sure; I'll do the ivy and you do the fern. 

Dean grabs a coffee can and the fern and one of Cas' little shovels.

"Okay," Cas starts, "So you want to gently loosen the dirt around the plant in order to pull it out cleanly. Then nestle it into the new dirt, cover it with more soil and pack it down a bit, then we'll water them in."

"Sounds good."

Cas nods and they plant quietly for a minute. 

Cas finishes first and watches Dean's hands work strongly and surely against the soil.

"You're pretty okay at that, you know," Cas says.

Dean smirks and pats the dirt down securely around the base of the plant, "With specific instruction from the expert, of course."

Cas smiles and stands up, setting the newly-planted ivy on the wall. Dean wipes his hands on his jeans and follows suit, placing the fern next to the ivy.

"So like I said, I'll make a paper or some tags with how often they need watered or whatever, but until..." Cas slows, noticing Dean's gaze.

Dean's eyes are fixed on Cas's, his lips barely turned into a smile, his face fixed in a calm, charmed manner. Cas has a single dirt smear across his right cheekbone and his skin glows in the sun and Dean cannot even try to wait any longer.

"I kinda wanna kiss you," Dean speaks low and a little shaky, "Not kinda, I really want to. Is that weird? People don't usually say that, I guess, I—"

"No it's okay," Cas assumes an almost identical dream-like expression, "It's okay."

"Yeah?" Dean hesitantly raises his hand up to hold Cas's jaw. "Can I?" 

Cas just kisses him, and Dean struggles to do it properly as he's too busy smiling.

When Dean pulls back and lets his eyes open slowly, he can't stop the grin from spreading into a full-on smile. Cas, unsurprisingly, looks the same.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean sighs and speaks almost in a laugh, "We should definitely do that for a while sometime."

Cas laughs with him and then says, "C'mere," and pushes their lips together one more time. 

Dean hums and when they part Cas says, "Definitely." 

"We should uh... we should finish the plant thing. Probably," says Dean distractedly.

"Yes. Um," Cas blinks and tries to regain his focus, "You wanna water them in and I'll make a paper with care instructions?" 

"Yeah, perfect. Uh," Dean tries to suppress the flustered feeling attempting to overwhelm him, "I'll be right back with the stuff."

Nodding, a still slightly-dazed Cas occupies himself with settling the plant leaves perfectly. 

After Dean returns with the supplies, and as Cas writes on the paper and Dean pours water from the pitcher to the plant pots, they're comfortably quiet.

"Here," Cas stands up and hands Dean the paper. 

"Wanna go back inside?" Dean asks.

Cas nods but begins to speak, "Can we talk for a minute first?" 

Unavoidably, worry knots up in Dean's chest, "Yeah, of course."

"I just..." Cas grins and looks at the ground, "I have to understand what you think about me, or why...why you kissed me: what you think of us. Because I don't want to do something we don't agree on, or...or...," he breathes, "I just want to start correctly with whatever this is." 

Cas looks back up at him, and Dean can't meet his eyes. 

"Like," Dean starts, "like you were okay with me kissing you, right? Honestly?" 

"Yes, yeah, I...yes. Honestly." 

"You're just...unsure of...," Dean looks slightly confused and a little hopeful that this is all going to turn out fine.

"I just want to know how you feel about me. Because you're certainly attractive and certainly nice to kiss, but I also have grown to care about you, Dean, even in the brief time I've known you."

Dean understands then. "Castiel," Dean smiles, "I may have spent the first ten minutes looking at your hair and your eyes and your butt—" Dean pauses as Cas laughs and looks away "—but then I just wanted to be around you. I don't wanna be all sappy or whatever, but I think you're interesting, you know... I love listening to you talk and laugh, and I would love—if you want— to spend more time with you." 

"Okay," Cas breathes out a sigh, "Good. Yeah. I was just, I know it's a little mean, but I was making sure—"

"I gotcha. No, I don't just wanna fuck you or anything," Dean smirks. 

"Alright," Cas laughs, "we can go back inside now." 

They do so, and Sam manages to stay hidden for a while as the other two talk in the kitchen. After talking about the plants while leaning against the counter top, they move to the couch and Dean looks at Cas with the most easy gaze in the world.

"We should go on some hikes together sometime," Dean suggests. 

"Absolutely, yeah," Cas nods, "You go often?"

"Not as often as I should, probably, but hiking with you sounds pretty damn nice."

Cas grins and shifts so he's closer to Dean, sitting cross-legged on the cushion and facing the other man. Cas leans in but looks down at his hands, "So, uh, not to be, I don't know, overly serious, but what what is, you know..." he motions between them,"...this?" 

Dean puts a careful hand on Cas' ankle, "I think that I really like you, and if you wanna go on a couple dates or something, I would absolutely love to call you my boyfriend."

Cas runs his hands through his hair and smiles, "Yeah, that's good. That's good." 

"Until then, if you wanna make out or whatever on occasion, I'm also totally down for that."

"Fair enough," Cas chuckles, "Just not while I'm at the greenhouse, probably," he jokes.

"Fair enough," Dean smarts back. 

Cas softly touches the hand that rests on his ankle and things slow for a minute. Conversation becomes hushed, and every sentence feels sacred. "You're a very nice person to be around. Not too fast or too slow or loud or soft...just very genuine and kind. It's nice,"

"Well," Dean looks down and then up at Cas, "I'm glad. I could say the same to you." 

Dean leans forward and kisses his jaw and mumbles against his skin, "For the record, regardless of what happens next, I am awfully glad I wound up at a certain greenhouse one Wednesday morning."

A little numbed by the lips on his neck, Cas takes a moment to reply, "Same here. Without a doubt." 

Leaning further into him, Dean kisses his neck again: this time a legitimate, I-mean-busniness, low-groan-enticing kiss. Cas retaliates by grabbing Dean's face and pushing their lips together hard. Dean kinda laughs and kinda moans into it, kisses the corner of Cas' lips and then leans away to see him. 

Dean smiles and runs his thumb along the dirt smear still gracing Cas' cheek. After a happy sigh and a slight shake of his head, Dean speaks softly:

"Without a doubt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well I sure as fuck loved writing this, maybe more than any fic so far. if enough of you ask or seem to like this I can continue it and maybe add some sex or smthn but for now I think this is a cute place to end it. comments mean the world!! again I'm so sorry this took so long I took too long of a break from writing but that's over expect more content soon!! I love you all.


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